


Finish What We Started

by DeceasedRaven



Category: Elite (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-19
Updated: 2018-10-19
Packaged: 2019-08-04 07:12:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16342226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeceasedRaven/pseuds/DeceasedRaven
Summary: Elite AU // Omar and Ander are neighbors. (On-going work)





	Finish What We Started

Drip. Drip. Drip. Waiting for the busted coffeemaker to fill a pot is worse than watching paint dry. Omar sighs and decides this is the best he’s going to get. He fills a mug and slips out the window onto the fire escape. He wipes the rain-slick steps with his sleeve and pushes aside Samu’s sad excuse for an herb garden, before settling against the railing. The warmth of the coffee against his palms cuts through the November chill and he takes a moment to be grateful for his new life. 

Which isn’t to say that leaving his parent’s house to live with Samu and Christian has been all fun and games. They’re broker than broke, and the lights often cut off on them, either because Christian forgets to pay the bill or because they can’t scrape up enough money that month. You have to check the toilet for rats before taking a shit, and Omar is still scarred by that time they all had bedbugs. If one year ago, someone had told him that he would one day be naked in a bathtub scratching his body until it bled next to Samu and Christian doing the same, he would’ve told them to go fuck themselves. 

But mostly he misses Nadia so much it hurts. He hadn’t expected it to be this hard to be apart, as they were never especially close, but there’s a hollowness in his chest whenever he thinks of her. And sometimes when he thinks of his parents, but mostly he tries not to think of them. 

The clouds overhead look ready to open up, so Omar stands up to go inside, but movement from the apartment across the street stops him. At first, all he can see is a shadowy figure filling up the window, until the figure turns on the light then looks straight at Omar. Omar tries to catch his breath. The figure is a young man about his age and even from this distance, it’s clear he’s beautiful. Maybe the most beautiful person Omar has ever seen. The man ducks his head and Omar can’t look away from where his hair curls over his ears. And—Allah, help him—from where his earring reflects the kitchen’s lights. The man looks back up and Omar’s cheeks flood with warmth. He’s caught by the intensity with which the man is staring. It would be frightening if it weren’t so attractive. The man gives him a considering look, then smirks, one side of his mouth pulling up, his eyes crinkling. Omar becomes breathless, again, and it’s too much: he spins around and escapes back inside. 

Back in the kitchen, Christian is helping himself to the rest of the coffee. 

“Hey asshole, thanks for asking,” Omar says, cuffing Christian on the ear. 

Christian laughs. “I’m the reason you were able to make the coffee, I paid the last electricity bill,” he says, as if that wasn’t his month anyways. 

Omar rolls his eyes, then hesitates. He shouldn’t ask, but he can’t help himself.

“Hey, by the way have you met any of our neighbors?” 

Christian smiles in a way that worries Omar. 

“Indeed, I have met our neighbors. There’s this chick below us with tits that-” 

“No,” Omar groans. “I know the people in this building. I meant like, the people in the neighboring building.” 

“Oh,” says Christian, looking put-out at having his horny ravings cut short. “Yeah, I guess. A guy on the bottom floor runs the liquor store on the corner. Man, his wife is hot. How that piece of shit landed someone like her makes no sense-” 

“Christian.” 

“Yeah, yeah, take it easy. Why do you want to know, anyways? Are you looking for customers? Wait, shit, actually there’s this guy from the agency who would totally buy from you. He was just bitching yesterday about how his usual guy screwed him over. His name’s Ander and he’s definitely the kind of customer you would want. He gets top billing on almost every shoot. No idea why he’s living here, with the kind of money he makes, I’d live in one of those places on third. Or even first.” 

“Ander?” Omar prompts, trying to seem casual. 

“Yeah, Ander Luca, though that’s probably a stage name. Wait a fucking second. I think I’m scheduled to be in a group thing with him later this week. Yeah, fuck, I am. I’m kind of intimidated actually, don’t tell anyone, but he’s so good. I mean, I’m the best, I know I’m new, but I’m the best, but he’s real competition. Look, this is the promo shoot for his newest film. Shit, I’m usually only gay for pay but I’d consider sucking that dick for free.” 

Christian pulls up Elite Studio’s homepage and there he is. The man behind the window. There’s picture after picture of him in every imaginable position with a muscular, dark-haired man. Kneeling in front of a bed, with his wrists crossed behind his back, the delicate slope of his spine on full display. A close-up of his gorgeous lips curved around the larger man’s dick, a hand grasping his silky curls. A wide shot of Ander riding the other man, head thrown back, lips parted in what can only be described as ecstasy- 

Omar slams the computer shut. His face is on fire and he prays Christian doesn’t notice. 

“Hey, careful with my laptop,” Christian barks. He looks at Omar and his face softens. “Aw, man, I forgot you Muslims hate gays. Sorry, man, it’s weird for me, too, you know. If it didn’t pay so much I’d do literally anything else. I really think it’s starting to affect my performance with the ladies.” 

Christian keeps rambling, but Omar tunes him out. He’s gotten used to people assuming things about him, but it never hurts any less when it happens. As if he needs a reminder of all the ways he’s betrayed his family. 

Leaving was supposed to mean freedom, but where the fuck is it?


End file.
